If I fell, he would not catch me
by whiskey in the impala
Summary: A letter of one who has lost and one who has seen to one who is loved.


If I were to fall, he wouldn't help me up.

If I were to fall, he wouldn't catch me.

If I were to fall, he most certainly wouldn't fall for me.

How could this be the saviour the world had been too long in wait for?

Some of his faults can be put down to the nature of humanity or to his age, for it is true, a boy of his years should never have had to go through what he has gone through or seen what he has seen. Although sometimes I wonder if he ever actually, "sees". To the objective outsider (someone who has had little interaction with him in any form) it would appear that he can chose whether he looks to see, or whether he looks to look but not really _see_ at all. In my eyes, through the logic of the one who is standing on the sidelines, this is no trait of a hero. A hero should _see_all, not just what they want to. A true hero should be able to look at whom he considers to be his enemy and not just observe the paths they have taken, or the sides they have chosen. A _true _hero should be able to look deeper into his greatest enemy and be able to see the reasons behind those decisions. For surely it is that reason behind the action, rather than the action itself?

The world calls him a hero. And though I have _looked_, I cannot _see_ it. I do not delude myself by thinking that I could possibly understand the events of his past, nor with the deepest slice could I feel his pain, but in the eyes of the one he in turn does not _see_, he is certainly no hero.

His reason behind his action isn't a selfless one. Hell, it wasn't even his own choice. He was given no option; he had to fight He Who Must Not Be Named. And all the way through it he has had people by his side, guiding him when he was lost, supporting him when he was weak and dying for him when he was faced with the eternal drowning darkness. And yet in his warped 'hero' burdened little mind he is so hard done for, in his own mind, he is alone. Again it comes down to _seeing_; if he cannot even _see_ himself for what he truly has or who he truly is, how can he be expected to see those who are unlike him? How can he be expected to _see_ me? Do not expect him to see you.

All these years, I have been ridiculed, I have been tested and I now I am found guilty of crimes that I have not committed. Never have I even thought of causing the young boy pain, for that is what he is, he is just a child, so simple is his viewing of the world. When he stops believing in good and evil and the fairytale that the moral and righteous always win, will he finally have become a man. But though I may hope, deep down I know that such an event will never arise because he has no one either capable or willing to tell him that the only reason those few lucky children get to delude themselves in the fairytale that their side will win because they are fighting for a better world, is because it is the winners who live to write the history; and naturally, they always believe they are right, it is the cause they were willing to give their life for after all. So I cannot blame him for being unable to understand his opposition, however I cannot find it within myself to be able to grant him freedom of blame for condemning me. I have not wronged him in anyway. Never hurt him physically or emotionally nor has my mere presence affected any of those he claims to love. But still I am condemned. I am condemned because of my blood. Hypercritical is it not? He fought to save the magical world from being judged by their lack of pure blood lineage, and now the war is over and his fight has been won, I am being judged by the purity of mine.

Just because I was a pureblood, a Slytherin and betrothed to his arch enemy and son of one of The Dark Lords' most faithful followers does not mean that me or my family were involved. So we didn't fight for either side, does that make us bad people? Should we have given our lives for a cause that we didn't really care about either way? In truth, though it may seem self centred, we didn't care because had people not been so blind, we shouldn't have been affected. But they were blind and we were affected. My family was raided and murdered because the winning side – his side – believed us to be working for the other. There was no proof, no evidence, not even any accusations from victims or death eaters. But our family were pure bloods, our family were Slytherins' and therefore according to that they must have been death eaters, murderers and devoted to a cause.

The so called hero took all that I had and thought it owed to him. I lost my family as he lost his and you yours, but it wasn't I that owed it to him. I have lost the love of my life and in loving him I have been condemned to a fate worst then death. Why must people be so narrow minded to think that because I married Draco Malfoy that I had to follow his father's footsteps? I loved Draco for Draco, and in spite of his father's beliefs not because of them. Draco was also wrongly convicted, it is true he became a death eater but if one cared to look at his reasons – to see them – they would have acted no different. The saying may go that the apple never falls far from the tree but that bloody misunderstood forsaken apple still falls god damn it. And sometimes that fall, is far enough.

So, my child, when people try and condemn you for who your parents were, you hold your head up proud and say that you fell, and that you fell far, and in you heart of hearts you can know the truth, that your parents loved you more than life itself and that you didn't need to fall, because there was nothing to want to fall from.

Your father was a good man; your father was a true hero.

When you fell, he helped you up.

When you fell, he would catch you.

And before you could fall for a final time, he fell for you.

With all my heart, my child, I wish you all the happiness the world could bring and I hope that your new guardians will be able to make you as happy as your father and I had wished too.

You will forever be our daughter,

Pansy Malfoy.


End file.
